<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Good Kind of Change by Sohotthateveryonedied</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28966629">The Good Kind of Change</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sohotthateveryonedied/pseuds/Sohotthateveryonedied'>Sohotthateveryonedied</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Young, Gay, Totally Unjustified [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Young Justice (Cartoon), Young Justice - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - No Powers, Dick Grayson is a brat, Everyone Is Gay, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, Recovery, Surgery, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Wally West, also lian is in this!!!!!, also wally and artemis are really cute, and brucely!!!!, and dick and artemis are absolute gremlins when you put them together, and i didn't even use most of it dfghjk, and the rest of it is wally dick and artemis being chaotic bastards while he recovers, author is cis, but we love him, feat. dick and wally being the unusually close bffs they are, gosh i love these three, love those angels, top surgery, wally gets top surgery in this fic, you have no idea how much research i did before writing this fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:08:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,984</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28966629</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sohotthateveryonedied/pseuds/Sohotthateveryonedied</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Artemis shifts the camera back to herself. “Anyway, Wally should be back in an hour or so. After that, we get to spend the next week lounging around and relaxing while he recovers.”</p>
<p>Dick grabs the phone to lean in conspiratorially. “They’re cutting his tits off,” he mock-whispers. </p>
<p>Artemis hums in affirmation. “I once got my tonsils taken out, you know. Couldn’t eat anything but pudding for a week.”</p>
<p>“I broke my arm once trying to cartwheel down the stairs.”</p>
<p>“How’d it go?”</p>
<p>“Not good, my friend. Not good.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Artemis Crock &amp; Dick Grayson, Artemis Crock &amp; Dick Grayson &amp; Wally West, Artemis Crock/Wally West, Dick Grayson &amp; Wally West</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Young, Gay, Totally Unjustified [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996390</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>181</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Good Kind of Change</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>here we are, folks, the last installment of the gsa series! then again, i did say that after the first two fics and look where we are now, but i swear this is really the end this time. probably. i give it a 99% chance that i won't add more to this au. </p>
<p>enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>[ RECORDING… ]</b>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The camera focuses in on Artemis’ face, her blonde hair tied up in a ponytail and draped over her shoulder. “Hey, guys,” she says, rubbing the back of her neck. She looks tired, like she’s been sitting in the same spot for a while. “Since you’re all back in Happy Harbor and couldn’t be here, I thought I’d record the experience for you myself. Super nice of me, right?” </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>She turns her phone around to show off what looks like a hospital room, white walls and blue plastic chairs with an empty bed against the wall. She faces the camera again. “It is currently…” She turns to the side. “What time is it?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Two-thirteen,” a voice says. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“It is currently two-thirteen here, which means it’s, what, five o’clock in Rhode Island? That’s wild to think about—you guys are all living in the future. Wally’s still in surgery, so Dick and I are chilling here and waiting for it to be over. Dick, say hi to the folks.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The camera pans to show Dick sitting horizontally in the chair beside Artemis’, engulfed in one of Roy’s Star University sweatshirts that is two sizes too large for him. He throws up a peace sign. “Wassup, bitches.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Artemis jabs him with her elbow. “Barry and Iris are getting this video too.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Oh. Wassup bitches, plus Barry and Iris. Please send muffins.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Artemis shifts the camera back to herself. “Anyway, Wally should be back in an hour or so. After that, we get to spend the next week lounging around and relaxing while he recovers.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Dick grabs the phone to lean in conspiratorially. “They’re cutting his tits off,” he mock-whispers. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Artemis hums in affirmation. “I once got my tonsils taken out, you know. Couldn’t eat anything but pudding for a week.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I broke my arm once trying to cartwheel down the stairs.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“How’d it go?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Not good, my friend. Not good.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Artemis sits back, running a hand through her hair. “At least it’s more fun than this. Until the surgery is over, we’re stuck sitting here and being bored.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Bold words to say with me in the room. Isn’t there a gift shop here?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Probably. Why?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Let’s go buy Wally a bunch of weird shit. Bruce let me borrow his credit card, so we’re covered.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“He seriously let you use it again after the McDonald’s disaster?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“It was only </span>
  <em>
    <span>seventy </span>
  </em>
  <span>Big Macs, and it was for charity.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“It was to feed the stingrays at the aquarium.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Regardless, Bruce said yes when I asked him in morse code.” His eyes dart to the side. “I think. There’s an eighty-percent chance that I don’t know morse code.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Of course there is.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span>The next footage begins in the same room as before, this time showing Wally groggy and sitting up in the hospital bed. An ace bandage is wrapped around his chest, compressing the still-healing results underneath. Scattered on the bed are items from the gift shop: coloring books, teddy bears, packs of playing cards, and enough candy to send Willy Wonka into a sugar coma. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Say hi, Wally,” Artemis says from behind the camera. He waves with a tired but dopey grin. “He’s high as a kite right now and having a blast.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Fuck you,” Wally slurs, “I’m not high, ‘m just...vibing.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“You’re just vibing, huh?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Mm-hm. I don’t...don’t do drugs. That’s legal.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“You mean illegal.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“S’what I said.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Dick is sitting on the edge of the bed eating a cup of jello. “Y’know, since you technically just had plastic surgery, that means you’re part Kardashian now.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally’s mouth drops in horror. “But I don’t wanna be a bimbo!”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Too late, your new name is Wally Rudolph Kardashian.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally looks to Artemis, tears forming in his eyes. “Fix that.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Uh…” Artemis waves her hand. “Poof, you’re not a Kardashian anymore.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Thank you.” He reaches out and pats her arm. “You’re really magical.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Thanks?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“And you smell nice.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“What do I smell like?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Hm…” He scrunches his nose. “Lagasna. Lasanguna. Las...agna.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Dick bursts into laughter. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally looks offended. “Lasagna is the </span>
  <em>
    <span>best </span>
  </em>
  <span>thing in the whole wide world. I would trade your life for lasagna.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Dang,” Artemis says. “Wally just said you’re worth less than a lasagna. How do you feel about that, Dick?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Cherished.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally loses interest in the conversation and tears open a package of M&amp;Ms, spilling half of them all over his lap. He frowns. “My Skittles are gone.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Babe, you just said you were nauseous ten minutes ago.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“But I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>hungry.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Wally furrows his eyebrows, struggling to pinch an M&amp;M between two fingers. “And s’not food. They’re candy.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Dick scoops up some M&amp;Ms and pours them into his own mouth. “Are you even supposed to have candy after surgery?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Pro’bly not,” Wally says, eating M&amp;Ms by the mouthful. Artemis takes the rest of the package away, just in case. “When can we go home?” he asks around the chocolate in his mouth.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“In a little bit.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally nods, and it’s hard to tell if he even remembers the question. He pokes at his chest, not that he can feel anything under the painkillers, the thick layers of gauze, and the ace bandage. After a minute, he slurs, “Hey, guess what?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“What?” Dick says.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I’ve been...been scared titless.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>That sends Dick tumbling into a fit of cackles.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span>“All I’m saying is...is that it’s med’cal waste, right?” Wally says to the tired-looking doctor while Dick helps him work his hoodie on, being careful not to bump the drains attached to his chest. “Just give ‘em to me and it’ll cost, like,</span>
  <em>
    <span> zero</span>
  </em>
  <span> dollars on your end.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Artemis sighs from behind the camera. “You’re not taking them home, Wally.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Why not? It‘s not like anyone’s using them anymore. I wanna chuck ‘em at oncoming cars.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Dick raises his hand. “I am definitely in favor of taking home the removed titties.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“See? Dick agrees with me.” Wally high-fives him, missing the target by half a foot. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>All three are in Wally’s car now, Wally in the passenger side while Dick plays a DS game in the back. Wally is holding the seat belt away from his chest, being cautious of the stitches lurking beneath the bandage. On the dashboard is an army of knick-knacks, things like bobbleheads and tiny plastic plants dancing back and forth as the car shifts.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Let It Go” is blasting over the speakers, a crescendo building in tinkling notes. The beat drops, then Wally screams out the lyrics, getting into it as much as he can despite his compressed lungs. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Let it goooo, let it goooo, and I’ll rise like the break of daaaawn—”</span>
  </em>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“The love of my life, everybody,” Artemis shouts to be heard over the music.<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m feeling okay,” Wally says. He’s got his cell phone pinned between his shoulder and ear, his hands fiddling with one of Artemis’ hair ties. “Seriously, Iris, it’s fine. I get it. With Bart and the twins at home, I wouldn’t want you coming all the way to California just to take care of me. And I’ve got Dick and Artemis here, anyway.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally is sitting at the end of the couch, surrounded by pillows and blankets. It looks like a slumber party exploded all over their living room. At the center of the mess is Dick, sprawled on the floor in a nest of blankets as he messes around on his own phone. Just the tip of Artemis’ foot can be seen from her position stretched out along the length of the sofa. Brucely is on the floor by Wally’s feet, fast asleep and cuddling with what looks like a Wally West voodoo doll.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Hey. Tell her I’m an awesome caretaker,” Artemis says. “Tell her all about how I adjusted your pillows eleven times.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally ignores her. “It’s not too bad. The drains are annoying and it’s hard to move around, but otherwise I’m good. Just kinda drowsy.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Wally. Wally, tell her.” Artemis presses her cold toes against Wally’s leg, exposed under the cutoff of his shorts. “Tell her I’m nurse supreme.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally flicks her ankle, still focused on his aunt. “Not sure. I can’t take the bandages off for a week, and they said the swelling should go down by the end of the month. I honestly wasn’t paying attention, but Dick was, so it’s fine.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Artemis doesn’t stop pestering him, digging her toes into his side and making him shiver. She snickers.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally swats her away. “Yeah, they said to take a painkiller every—” He yelps when Artemis’ freezing toes touch his leg again. “Oh my god, will you </span>
  <em>
    <span>quit it?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He throws a pillow at her, making Artemis laugh and drop her phone. “Nothing, Iris, just a fly. I killed it.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>This time Dick is the cameraman, recording himself stacking Cheerios on the kitchen table. The tower is a good seven or eight inches tall, perfectly centered with nary a wobble. The front door can be heard opening.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I’m back,” Artemis says. Her keys clank. “I couldn’t find any dinosaur nuggets, so I just got regular-shaped ones.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Artemisss,” Dick whines. “How can we enjoy dinosaur nuggets without the dinosaurs?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Eat them with your eyes closed.” There’s the crinkle of a paper bag. “I also stopped by the pharmacy earlier, Wally. I got your ADHD meds, your antidepressants, your anxiety meds, your testosterone, and the pain meds the doctor prescribed you. Holy </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit, </span>
  </em>
  <span>you’ve got issues.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“You’re the one dating all these issues,” he reminds her.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“And I’m damn lucky.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Dick stacks another Cheerio. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>There’s more crinkling, this time sounding like a plastic grocery bag. Wally makes a disappointed sound. “You forgot the ice cream.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I’m not going back out to get you ice cream.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Dick’s Cheerio tower nearly reaches the light fixture hanging over the table. He stands on a chair to add more.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The front door opens again. Artemis lets out the sigh to end all sighs. She must toss the grocery bag into Wally’s lap, judging by the </span>
  <em>
    <span>oof </span>
  </em>
  <span>he lets out. “Here’s your ice cream.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“You’re the </span>
  <em>
    <span>best.”<br/>
</span>
  </em>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>That night, the trio is gathered in the bathroom while Dick brushes Wally’s teeth. Dick is wearing an Appa onesie, Wally is wearing a Pikachu one, and the mirror above the sink shows Artemis recording with her phone and wearing her very own Mike Wazowski onesie.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“You are weirdly good at that,” she says. Wally makes an affirming “uh-huh” noise, the sound garbled by toothpaste. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Well, duh,” Dick says. “It’s not like we haven’t done this before.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Artemis’ face twists. “You...brush each other’s teeth?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Only when our nails are wet.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Your friendship is weird.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“T’ank ‘ou,” Wally says. He chokes when Dick accidentally jabs too far at the back of his throat, coughing violently and making toothpaste foam dribble down his chin. He clutches his still-healing chest, trying to tamp down the coughs. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Jesus. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dude, what the fuck?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Sorry, I got distracted.” Dick dabs away the toothpaste with his sleeve.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“By </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?”</span>
  </em>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Thinking about mothman.”</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The camera pans back and forth, following the foam football that Dick and Artemis are throwing across the apartment. Dick stands in the kitchen with his back against the fridge, while Artemis has taken post by the front door. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“So...how long have you guys been doing this?” Wally asks. He pans the camera with every toss, following the ball.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Three hours,” Artemis says.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“And seven minutes,” Dick adds.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“And how many times have you dropped the ball?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Zero!” Dick cheers, pumping a fist in the air. “Because we’re awesome.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Hell yeah,” Artemis agrees. “We should be in the olympics.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Cool, cool,” Wally says. “And how long have I been complaining that I need to pee?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Artemis shrugs after her next catch. “About twenty minutes, give or take.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Just checking to make sure you can still sense the passage of time. I still have to pee, by the way. And I can’t get up from this couch without help or else I might tear open my stitches, in case you forgot.” </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Artemis tosses the football back to Dick, narrowly missing the television. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally sighs dramatically. “If only I weren’t so injured and </span>
  <em>
    <span>helpless.</span>
  </em>
  <span> After my </span>
  <em>
    <span>surgery. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The super important surgery that I’m</span>
  <em>
    <span> still recovering from.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And which you both </span>
  <em>
    <span>volunteered to help me out with.</span>
  </em>
  <span> That surgery.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I’ll help you out as soon as Dick drops the ball.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Why do you automatically assume </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m </span>
  </em>
  <span>gonna be the one to drop it?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Because I’m better at sports than you are.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Yeah, and I’m the one with five younger siblings. I’ve already mastered the art of throwing stuff at people.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Bet you thirty bucks you’ll drop it.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Make it forty.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally turns the camera around so his own grumpy face takes up the whole frame. “This is a hostage situation, I swear.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Artemis is behind the camera again, recording Wally at the opposite end of the sofa. Wally has got a bagel in one hand and is supporting his phone with the other, his elbow propped on one of the many pillows stacked around him. “Look, dude. All I’m saying is that if you didn’t want Lian’s first word to be fuck, maybe you shouldn’t have said it in front of her every single day of her life.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <em>
    <span>“How do we know it’s my fault?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Roy asks over FaceTime. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Maybe she learned it from Kaldur.”</span>
  </em>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Right, because Kaldur would swear around an impressionable child.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <em>
    <span>“He might. Maybe he stubbed his toe once.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Then, distantly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Hey Kal, say fuck.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> A brief pause. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Okay, he didn’t do it that time, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t curse around her at all.”</span>
  </em>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Uh-huh, sure.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Dick comes into view then, walking back in from Artemis and Wally’s room holding a stack of board games. “Is that Roy?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally tilts the phone so Dick can see. “He and Kaldur took Lian to the zoo and she keeps yelling ‘fuck you’ at the giraffes.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Dick bursts into laughter. “That’s amazing. Oh my god. Tell Lian I’m proud of her.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s not funny! The other parents keep looking at me like I’m raising a delinquent.”</span>
  </em>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Isn’t that the goal?” Wally says. “I thought we were raising Lian to be a chaotic freak like the rest of us.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <em>
    <span>“No way. My little girl is going to Harvard, and then she’s going to become the world’s best cardiothoracic surgeon.”</span>
  </em>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“So...you’re raising her to get bullied by the cool kids,” Artemis says. “That’s cold. I think you should let me take over.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <em>
    <span>“So she can turn into a little Artemis clone?”</span>
  </em>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Yes, because I’m awesome.” Dick and Wally nod in agreement.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Over Wally’s phone there is a faint, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Roy, give me the phone and take the stroller, please. It’s my turn to talk.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Artemis moves her own phone so the frame can catch Kaldur’s face now taking up the screen. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Wally, how are you feeling? I’ve been doing research on mastectomies and it said that the first week of recovery is the most difficult.”</span>
  </em>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally shrugs. “I don’t know, it’s not that bad.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Dick snorts. “Yeah, like you didn’t cry for an hour today because your foot itched and you couldn’t scratch it.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Yeah, and you didn’t do anything to help me!”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I was in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>shower.”</span>
  </em>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“For a whole hour?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Dick shrugs, completely unapologetic. “I like to pamper myself. And it takes a long time to get these legs silky smooth.” He tugs up the leg of his jeans to show off hairless skin.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <em>
    <span>“And where was Artemis during all this?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Kaldur asks.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I was at the store getting peanut butter. And in my defense, I should have known better than to leave them alone.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally gives a thumbs-up. “We’re all one-third of a whole idiot. Doing great.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <em>
    <span>“Well...I hope your recovery has been okay apart from that incident. Megan has the airline website open on her computer at all times in case you start dying and she needs to fly to California and heal you with optimism.”</span>
  </em>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“If everyone on the planet was friends with Megan Morse, there would be no wars,” Wally says solemnly. “We don’t deserve her.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“What about the others?” Dick asks. He clambers to perch on the arm of the couch so he can see Kaldur better. He accidentally bumps his elbow into one of Wally’s drains, making him hiss. “Oops—sorry. You good?” At Wally’s nod, he focuses back on Kaldur. “Did Conner and Raquel end up going through with their business idea?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <em>
    <span>“Unfortunately, Steels-On-Wheels didn’t last much longer than a week. The dumbbells weighed down Conner’s car so it couldn’t go past twenty miles an hour, and apparently there aren’t a lot of people in Happy Harbor who want to pay five dollars to lift weights for ten minutes.”</span>
  </em>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“That’s too bad,” Wally says. “I invested almost three dollars in that company.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“What about the song?” Dick asks. “Did they use my song idea?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes, they did blast the John Cena theme music while they drove around, but I think it turned people away more than anything.”</span>
  </em>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“That’s because no one has any good taste these days.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes, that’s definitely it.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>There is a roar offscreen, followed by the sound of Lian squealing in delight. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“By the way, Dick, how much longer do you plan to be in California? Zatanna won’t stop asking.”</span>
  </em>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Why didn’t she just call me?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <em>
    <span>“Her father took her phone away when he found the rabbit she’s been hiding under her bed.”</span>
  </em>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Bummer. I’m only staying for the week, so I’m flying back on Sunday.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Kaldur is about to say more, but that’s when Roy comes up from behind him to shove himself in full view, Lian propped on his hip. He gets close up to the camera, allowing them all a pleasant view of his nostrils. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh my god, I just realized. Bro. Bro. What if they switched your nipples while you were unconscious?”</span>
  </em>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span>Artemis trains the camera on Wally, snickering quietly. Brucely is napping on Wally’s lap, oblivious to Wally’s struggle as he reaches for the TV remote three feet away from him. “Come on, Artemis. This isn’t fair.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“What’s that, honey? Sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally whines. “Please just change the channel, I’m begging you. I can’t watch the Home Shopping Network anymore.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“This is what you get for saying that wrestling is fake.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Because wrestling </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>fake!” Wally strains for the remote, concentrating hard like he’s trying to channel the Force. Eventually he gives up, slumping back on the couch. “Dick, help me out here.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Dick is sitting on the floor, cross-legged in front of the television as he watches an infomercial in fascination. “Guys, check out this crock-pot. It has eleven pressure cook options, </span>
  <em>
    <span>plus </span>
  </em>
  <span>an air-frying feature.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><hr/>
<p><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>The camera is zoomed in on Artemis, way across the apartment in the kitchen with her back to the camera. She’s standing at the stove tending to a bubbling pot while Dick sits on the counter close by, eating Gushers and leaning over to see the concoction.</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“I think you’re burning it,” he says just loudly enough for the camera to pick up.</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“Mind your beeswax, Grayson. I know what I’m doing.”</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“I support you, babe!” Wally cheers her on, making the camera shake. “You’re doing great.”</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“I still don’t get why we couldn’t have just </span><em><span>ordered </span></em><span>mashed potatoes from a diner or something,” she says.</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“Because instant mashed potatoes are completely</span> <span>different? That’s like saying oranges and clementines are the same thing.”</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“They </span><em><span>are </span></em><span>the same thing.”</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“I think clementines are tinier,” Dick says.</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“Yeah, and they’re easier to eat on the go,” Wally agrees. “That’s why they’re the best fruit.”</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“Um, what about kumquats?”</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“Nobody cares about kumquats.”</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“I do.”</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“They’re pointless.”</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“You’re pointless.”</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><em><span>“You’re </span></em><span>pointless.”</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“Potatoes are done,” Artemis announces. </span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>Dick leans over and sniffs the pot. “I don’t know...Looks pretty sus to me.”</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“Then you don’t have to eat any.”</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“No, I want it. Just saying. It looks sus.” When Artemis hands Dick his bowl of still-steaming potatoes, he sprinkles his remaining gushers on top. “For flavor,” he explains.</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>Artemis rolls her eyes. She goes to join Wally on the couch, handing him a bowl and keeping one for herself. Wally rests the phone on the arm of the couch next to him, leaving nothing in frame but the cracked ceiling and part of an overhead light.</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>For a moment, nothing can be heard but the faint, tentative clinking of spoons against ceramic.</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“Uh...Artemis?” Wally says with mouth full. “What are these little green things?”</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“The instructions wanted me to add chives but I didn’t know what that was, so instead I cut up a zucchini.”</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“Why are the potatoes </span><em><span>crunchy?” </span></em><span>Dick asks. “Did you cook it long enough?”</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“Look, you guys are the ones who trusted me to make the food, which means nothing that happened is my fault.”</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>Wally reaches for his water bottle on the side table and chugs it. “There’s instructions on the </span><em><span>box.”</span></em><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“Well, </span><em><span>I </span></em><span>think it’s great,” Artemis says, taking a spoonful. She makes a slight choking noise but powers through it. “See? Delicious.”</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
<br/>
</span></p><hr/>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The lighting is dark and grainy but for the slight glow coming in through the window, just enough to illuminate Wally’s face. There are deep circles under his eyes and his hair is a mess.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Howdy, folks,” he says tiredly. “It’s…” He squints. “It’s two in the morning and I can’t sleep, so...that’s great. Dick conked out around midnight after we finished the second </span>
  <em>
    <span>Camp Rock </span>
  </em>
  <span>movie, the absolute traitor.” He flips the camera to show Dick fast asleep in the blanket nest on the floor. He’s wrapped himself in blankets, curled up so that the only visible part of him is a tuft of black hair. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally brings the camera back to himself. “Anyway, I’m not having a fun time. The incision itches like crazy but I can’t scratch it, plus my ribs hurt and the drains are annoying and I just—” He rubs at his tired eyes, looking completely worn out. “I really, really want to be done with all this? I knew that recovery would take a while, but knowing it in advance doesn’t make it any less terrible.” He yawns. “Oh, and did I mention that I can’t sleep? Yeah. It fucking sucks.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“You sure you don’t want hot chocolate?” Artemis asks. Wally shifts so that the frame includes her where she’s sitting next to him on the couch, a blanket thrown over her legs. Her hair is in a messy bun with strands falling into her eyes. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally leans in close to whisper to the camera, “I keep telling her to go to sleep, but she won’t listen to me.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Of course I won’t, dummy. You’re awake, so I’m awake.” She reaches over to run her fingers through his hair, unwashed and tangled as it is. “You can’t have another painkiller for two hours, but I can rub your shoulders if you want?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally shakes his head. “Nah—if I stay in this exact position without moving an inch, it feels slightly less like my ribs are going to snap.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“How about we watch some TV? That helps you fall asleep sometimes.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally makes a disgusted noise. “All I’ve </span>
  <em>
    <span>done </span>
  </em>
  <span>is watch TV. I’m sick of it. I want to run laps around the track and go to the beach, but I can’t even get in a full </span>
  <em>
    <span>breath </span>
  </em>
  <span>without this stupid bandage trying to smother my lungs to death. I hate this.” Wally leans over to rest his head on Artemis’ shoulder, wincing at just that small motion. He lowers the phone, letting it rest on his leg, forgotten.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I’m sorry, baby,” Artemis says. “But it’s just a couple more weeks. And honestly, I thought you’d be happy about all this. People waiting on you hand and foot, bringing you food and letting you relax all day? That’s the Wally West dream.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally chuckles, but it’s empty. “Careful what you wish for.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Artemis doesn’t stop petting his hair. “What can I do to make you feel better?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Dunno. Kinda just want to sit here and be miserable.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Artemis thinks for a moment. “I can find a flashlight and make shadow puppets on the wall, if you want?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“...Would you please do that, actually.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Artemis laughs and kisses his cheek. “You got it.”</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span>An easel with a large pad of paper is set up in front of the television. Dick stands next to it holding a marker. He reads a small card, then nods to himself. “Artemis, start the timer.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Artemis flips over the small hourglass perched on her knee. “Remember, no words or sounds. That’s cheating.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Dick uncaps the marker and draws a line down the center of the paper.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally slams the bell on the coffee table. “A monkey with a baseball bat!”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Correct!”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“There is no </span>
  <em>
    <span>way </span>
  </em>
  <span>that’s what it says.” Artemis stands up. “Give me that card.” Dick hands it to her, a shit-eating grin on his face. She reads it. “What the fuck? How is that a card?” She looks at Wally, baffled. “How did you get that with a fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>line?”</span>
  </em>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He and Dick high-five. “Best friend telepathy.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>This time Artemis is at the easel, some squiggles already drawn on the notepad. “Come on, guys, it’s not that hard.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Is it...an alien?” Wally asks, his head tilted in confusion. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“No.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Dick raises his hand. “Are we absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure</span>
  </em>
  <span> it isn’t a hooker?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“For the fifth time, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no.”</span>
  </em>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Why would a hooker have a bucket?” Wally asks.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“To put her money in?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Or maybe we were wrong about it being a bucket. Artemis, is it by any chance a dentist's office?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“No.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Darn.” </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Dick holds up the hourglass, the final grains of sand falling to the bottom. “Time’s up. Artemis, what the fuck did you draw?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>She throws her hands up. “It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>milk, </span>
  </em>
  <span>you fruit loops!”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Dick rubs his chin, stroking a nonexistent beard. “I don’t see it.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Artemis points at the biggest squiggle. “See, that’s the cow! And the bucket is a glass of milk.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally squints. “Genuine question: have you ever seen a cow before?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>She throws the marker at him. “Oh, like you’re any better.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Follow-up question,” Dick says. “Why did you give your cow a…you know.” He gestures to the drawing.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Those are the </span>
  <em>
    <span>udders.</span>
  </em>
  <span> See?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally stares at the camera like he’s on </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Office. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“I think we’ve had enough of Pictionary.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The phone is set up on the kitchen counter, facing the table where a Monopoly board has been laid out. Dick is leaning across the table with his hands folded, pleading with Artemis.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I’m begging you, Mis. I just need a small loan. My kids are starving and the landlord cut off our electricity. How is little Marie going to practice for her piano recital without any light to see by?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Buy some candles.” Artemis holds a wad of cash out to Wally. “I want Vermont.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“But that’s mine!” Dick objects.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Then outbid me for it.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I can’t! You took all of my money!”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Boo-hoo, the rich boy is living in poverty. Welcome to America.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Please, you can’t take Vermont Avenue. That place is my only source of income. My kids need their herpes medication!”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Artemis stares him dead in the eye. “Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” She slams the money on the table. “Vermont, please. And while you’re at it, I want the jail too.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally scratches his head. “I...don’t think you can buy the jail?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I’ll give you eighty thousand for it.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Sold! Pleasure doing business with you.” They shake hands. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Dick groans and drops his head on the table. “Capitalism has failed me.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Diiiiiick, knock it off.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“What? I’m not doing anything.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Knock it </span>
  <em>
    <span>off.”</span>
  </em>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Are you sure you’re not just hallucinating whatever it is you think I did? Pain medication can be a tricky thing, you know.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally thrashes his head around, trying to free himself from the wet napkin on his head. “This is bullying.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Dick just cackles.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally and Dick are standing at the front door hugging. The camera shakes a little as Artemis leans forward and whispers, “They’ve been saying goodbye for twenty minutes now. This is more dramatic than </span>
  <em>
    <span>Romeo and Juliet,</span>
  </em>
  <span> I swear.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“You’ll call me when the private jet takes off, right?” Wally asks.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Dick nods. “And the McDonald’s pit stop in Missouri. And again when I’m back in Happy Harbor.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“And I’ll send you pictures of our dinner so it’s like you’re still with us.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Dick wipes away a tear, his lip quivering. “I’m going to miss you, Walls.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Me too, little buddy. I’ll think of you every time I make a sandwich.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I’ll think of you every time I put on my socks.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I’ll think of you every time I breathe.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I’ll think of you every time I blink.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I’ll think of you every time I—”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“You two are literally seeing each other</span>
  <em>
    <span> next week</span>
  </em>
  <span> at Kaldur’s birthday party.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally is standing in the middle of the kitchen with tears running down his face while Brucely sits at his feet, wagging his tail and bumping his nose against Wally’s knee. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“This is agony,” Wally sobs.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Big oof,” Artemis says from her seat on the counter. She stirs her bowl of cereal in quick motions until it makes a mini whirlpool.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I want to pick him up so badly...He doesn’t even know why I can’t do it. He thinks I hate him.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Brucely whines and stands up on his back legs, pawing at Wally in a silent plea.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I want to pick you up!” he wails to the dog. “The doctor says I’m not allowed to!”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“He’s going to think you hate him,” Artemis says unhelpfully.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <em>
    <span>“Shut up!”</span>
  </em>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“He’s going to stumble through life, wondering what he did to make his daddy stop loving him.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Brucely happily licks Wally’s hand. Wally hangs his head in shame. “This is what true hell feels like.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The next footage is dark, the only light in the room coming from the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Doctor Who</span>
  </em>
  <span> marathon on the television. Wally fiddles with the camera before it flips to reveal himself and Artemis sitting on the couch together, her head pillowed on his shoulder.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Artemis sees the video screen and narrows her eyes. “What are you doing?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Nothing.” He zooms in on her face, tired but still beautiful.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>She reaches for the phone, but Wally moves it out of her reach. “Give me my phone back.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Hang on, I’m trying to capture the </span>
  <em>
    <span>art.”</span>
  </em>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>She snorts. “What art?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“You, duh.” Wally is mostly out of the frame, but a fraction of his smile can be seen.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Stop it.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“What? You look cute, is all I’m saying.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I haven’t washed my hair in three days.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“You look cuuuuute.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Artemis grabs for the phone and succeeds this time. Before the footage cuts out, she can be heard muttering, “Don’t know why you’re calling me cute when you’re right here, but okay.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Babe.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Babe, guess what.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Artemis doesn’t look up from the puzzle spread on the table between them, displaying a half-formed forest scene. “What?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I just realized that I can finally get rid of those alarms on my phone that tell me when to take my binder off, how cool is that?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“So? You never listened to them, anyway.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally makes an offended noise. “I listened to them </span>
  <em>
    <span>sometimes.”</span>
  </em>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“If I had a nickel for every time I had to bully you into taking your binder off, I’d be driving a Lexus.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span>Sunlight shines in through the car windshield. They’re parked in a Starbucks drive-thru, Wally in the driver’s side talking to the employee at the window while Artemis records from the passenger seat. She turns the phone around to focus on herself, sunglasses on her face and a caramel frappuccino in hand. She whispers, “We’ve been sitting here for ten minutes now.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I’ve written a ton of letters to the company, but I’ve never gotten a reply back.” Wally waves around his unicorn lemonade as he talks, dangerously close to spilling it with every motion. “Now, I know that’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>fault, but I do think the nation as a whole could benefit from some Happy Meal toys with their coffee.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The teenager behind the window looks extremely uncomfortable. “Um, I’m not really...in charge of that stuff? I just make the coffee.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Sure, but think about it, all right? You go to Starbucks for a refreshing macchiato, take a sip, and look at that! There’s a tiny clown toy floating around in there. Your day gets infinitely better.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Artemis sighs and reaches out to flick him in the ear. “Wally, will you let this go? The people behind us are honking. And Brucely is getting bored.” She pans the camera to show off Brucely in the backseat, buckled happily into his car seat. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“How about you bring the manager over here and we can see what </span>
  <em>
    <span>they </span>
  </em>
  <span>think?” Wally tells the employee.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Artemis slinks down in her seat with a groan. “I never should have let you drive us here. This is on me.”<br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Artemis holds the camera once more, her bare feet showing at the bottom of the frame as she walks down the hallway towards the bathroom. The door is already half-open, so she pushes it open the rest of the way.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally stands in front of the mirror, his shirt off and chest exposed. Being over one month post-op, the bandages and drains are long gone. He twists and turns in the mirror, watching his reflection like it’s the most important thing in the world.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Artemis’ reflection smiles knowingly and leans against the door frame. “Do you really have to do this every night?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Yes, actually, I do.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Well, I’m tired.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Then go to bed, weirdo. I’ll be there in a minute.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“But it’s cold,” she whines. “I need my space heater.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally snorts. “That’s all I am to you, huh? Just a warm teddy bear? I should start charging you for my services, then.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Artemis comes up behind him and encircles her arms around his shoulders. Wally’s hands instinctively reach up to grasp her wrists, keeping her close. Artemis angles the phone so it catches their reflections in the mirror, her chin resting on Wally’s shoulder. “I pay you in love and affection, isn’t that enough?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Nah, I’m too greedy.” He tilts his head to capture her lips in a kiss. His eyes return to the mirror and he grins like it’s his first time seeing it all over again. His chest is mostly healed by now, the only remnants being the still-healing scars under his pecs. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Artemis can’t help but match his smile. “You look good.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally grabs her hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles. “Not as good as you.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Dork.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“It’s true.” A pause. “But yes, this chest did cost a lot of money and is professionally sculpted, so to say that it looks anything less than amazing would be factually incorrect.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Artemis rolls her eyes. “Glad to see it hasn’t gone to your head.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>They stand there for a while, holding each other and watching their reflections mirror back the warmth flowing between them. Artemis is wearing one of Wally’s sports jerseys, the collar close to slipping down her shoulder.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I mean it, by the way,” she says. “You look happier now. I can’t remember the last time I saw you smile so much.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally hums contently. “I’m glad I did this.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Me too.” She kisses his cheek. “Now come on, Baywatch. Bedtime.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Wally chuckles. “Alright, alright. Human space heater, ready for duty.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>With one last kiss, Artemis releases him. "We have to get up early tomorrow, anyway. Dick painted his dad's car rainbow and I don't want to miss the live stream when he finds out."<br/>
<br/>
<strong>[ END RECORDING ]</strong><br/>
</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>gosh i will never be over wally and artemis for as long as i live...they're so cute.</p>
<p>thanks for reading! ❤❤❤</p>
<p>
  <a href="http://sohotthateveryonedied.tumblr.com/">Feel free to mosey on down to my Tumblr!</a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>